C50 Hands at the Throat

Rose’s POV

He stood silhouetted against the entrance doors, swaying slightly. Blood streaked his jaw, dark and viscous in the dim light. His knuckles were bloodied, and his shirt looked rumpled, like he just went through a milling machine.

His eyes were shadowed by dark rings.

"Damien!" I rushed forward, my hands outstretched. He recoiled like I’d brandished a knife.

"Don’t